The League of Assassins
by Thomas Lowson
Summary: When Michael Evers lays dying in the streets of Gotham, he believes his story has come to a close. Little does he realise, that it is just beginning. (The characters of DC Comics are in no way mine and I don't attempt to pass them off as my creation)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Rest In Peace Michael Evers

He had heard the stories of Gotham City. He had heard them all. The tales of crime, corruption, the greed that seemed to have engulfed a city. Gotham itself had once been a thriving beacon of economic growth, the buildings in the heart of the city being a testament to it. The stoic architecture served as a constant reminder of the days of old for the residents, and a reminder of how the city gathered it's name. And yet, over the last 50 years, the city had seemingly been wrecked, and now only some people were still able to afford the comfortable lifestyles that the city had become so famous for. Now, it wasn't names like Wayne, Cobblepot or Vandergilt that ruled the city, but Maroni's and Falcone's, names that were met with hushed tones and awkward glances by both the public, and the elected officials. It was clear to him from the day he had first stepped into Gotham, money, power and corruption were the key priorities in this once legendary city.

But he had heard also about the stranger side of the city. The stories of costumed criminals willing to maim and kill anyone who stands in there way to achieve their goals. These freaks had become more known in recent years, and it seemed like there was no shortage of them to constantly give the citizens of Gotham a reason to look over their shoulder. But of course, there was the other side to these costumed freaks, the silent guardian who watched over the city. Michael had heard the stories of the caped crusader as the tabloids had dubbed him, and it seemed that the newspapers had a different story to publish about the man who watched over the Gothamites.

"So where was he tonight" Michael asked himself, as he felt the pain in his abdomen intensify. He tried to press the hole where the knife had pierced him, but he knew that this was a fruitless endeavour. The damage was done as Michael laid back, feeling the cold frost-laden street against the back of his head. His blue eyes stared up into space, and he felt the snow falling on his face, piercing white flakes against the infinite darkness of night. Michael couldn't help but force what he could of a smile, as he acknowledged the slight humour of the situation. Here he was, the 'lethal weapon' as his friends called him, and now he was dying literally in a gutter.

"How did I end up like this, laying in a gutter waiting to die" he asked himself.

"You were cheated", a soft voice replied. Michael tried to prop himself up to see who had said it, but his body wouldn't allow it. His whole body ached now, he didn't feel like he carry on much longer. The woman who had spoken approached from the shadows and knelt beside him. Even in the state he was in, Michael could not help but admire her beauty. She was radiant, dressed all in black, complete with jet-black flowing hair. The cold seemed not to faze her in the slightest as she gently stroke Michael's cheek.

"Wh-what did you say" he asked, and couldn't help but feel his body become still, death had come for him.

"You were cheated" the woman replied. "That drunken neanderthal had caught you off guard, and he had a knife, there was very little chance that this situation could have gone any other way". Her voice was smooth, and despite the circumstances that Michael was in, she didn't appear fazed.

"How do you know" Michael got out, as he felt the taste of blood in his mouth. His condition was worse than he thought. The warm, thick, red liquid dribbled out of his mouth, and contrasted with the coldness of his chin.

"Shhhh sweet Michael" the woman said, pressing a black leathered glove against his lips. "I know a lot more than you think. I know everything about you Michael Evers of England, here in Gotham as part of your preparation to represent your country at the 2016 Olympics. I know that you are a talented martial artist, who has recently only seen the worst in people, a constant pessimist. And I know" she paused, with what seemed like regret, or maybe anticipation in her eyes "that you are too stubborn to ask for someone's help, even in death".  
"What's the point" Michael spat out, "in living, when death is truly inevitable".  
"For some, yes" the woman retorted, as her lip curled into a smile. "But suppose I could give you more, that I could give you a purpose that you could have never achieved before"  
"Now that" Michael coughed out "is something I'd like to see". By now, death was inevitable, and Michael knew it. He was now completely still, his head tilted back, as he let out his final cough. Slowly, his eyes shut, his body fell still, and death took him.

The woman kneeled at his side for a moment, as if in mourning, before reaching for an object, similar to a walkie-talkie and spoke.

"Master, I have found the perfect specimen", her voice now seemingly had some eagerness to it. She had waited to make this message, and now she was here. "He seeks longevity and a purpose, key to our mission".

"Good, a team will arrive for you and him, make sure he is not tampered with", the voice on the other end of the device replied.

"I will master, no-one will disturb him", she replied with certainty.

"You've done well tonight Talia, with this man, we will fulfill our purpose"

"Thank you, father" Talia said, before removing the communications device. She brushed her hand against the still warm flesh of the deceased Michael Evers.

"Soon you fill fulfill the master's wishes" whispered Talia, as the all too familiar van approached the alleyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - The Return

The black van, tore through the winding streets of Gotham, it was a testament to the driver's determination. Talia had decided to sit in the back with the specimen, which she kept a constant watch over. He was truly the perfect person she could have found, a fighter, healthy, angry. It could not have been more perfect. She thought back to the several attempts she and her father had made to find a new member, but they had all ended in disaster. There bodies either disintegrated in the pit, or went mad from the waters. But this was different, she could feel it. Tonight was the start of a new era in Gotham. In the world. Her reverence was cut short abruptly, as the van leapt slightly to one side, due to hitting the curb of a road. She looked immediately at the driver, who was now sweating.

"I'm sorry mistress", he started. "It won't happen again".  
"It had better not" she replied. "Lest you don't want to see the fruits of our labour". The driver fell silent. He knew like they all knew about the importance of tonight, the importance of the package they had and took more precaution for the rest of the journey.

After what seemed like an eternity, they met their destination. An old abandoned mansion stood before them, it's window panes empty, some bricks hanging loose. To the casual passerby, that is what it would be, a decrepit derelict house that had somehow survived the test of time, though barely. But Talia knew the power that lay behind this façade.

"Bring him in here", ordered Talia, and the small group of men who had arrived in the van followed. Stepping into the house, the stench was overpowering. A think layer of dust covered all furniture, as well as the floor.

Some of the men wrenched in disgust of the odour, whilst Talia remained unfazed. As calmly as she was with Michael, she proceeded to the furthest wall, and pulled at a statue. Almost instantly, the wall opened, as the secret area was revealed.

The area was enormous and bathed in green light. In the room, some men, who were all dressed in black were sat in a meditative stance, whilst others were formed in a circle, watching intently as two of them fought in the centre. Their swings and dodges were fluid like, they had clearly received during the battle, the signs of fatigue showed, as one swung heavily with his sword, missing, which exposed his leg for a straight cut. The reaction was immediate, he fell to to the floor, clasping his bleeding leg. Blood stained the stone floor as the injured man looked up. The opponent was standing there triumphant, his sword ready to deliver the final blow, his hazel eyes flashing with intent. As he went for that stroke, Talia blacked him, with a sword of her own.

"ENOUGH" she yelled, "this is finished". The eyes of Talia and the victor locked for a brief moment, before he lowered his sword.

"Forgive me mistress" he barked, taking a ceremonial bow before placing his sword in it's sheath. He fell in line with the other men, who now stood to attention. Talia retracted her sword before continuing.

"All of you, back to your chambers". Immediately the men followed her demand, they dispersed in many directions, like a hand wafting through smoke. As Talia surveyed the room, she could feel rage inside her. Despite sharing the ideas of her father, she detested this senseless violence. Death was for the enemy, not for our own, she had once stated to him, but he was not interested. It was a basic Darwinian principle, survival of the fittest.

"You two" she pointed to two of the men who had not yet left, "take this man to the medical station", she gestured to the injured swordsman who had now fallen still, the pool of blood around his leg growing ever greater.  
"You" she pointed to a third man, who was carrying the former Michael Evers across his massive shoulder, "lay the body on that table, then return to your room. Everything was done as she demanded, and before long, she stood on her own, looking down at the body. His body still showed the signs of his death, but now, his blood was dry and stained his dark brown hair. Talia wasn't someone who showed her emotion, but her attempts to suppress a smile was a losing battle. Tonight was the night she had been waiting for, her father would finally see just how good she truly was.

"They have dispersed father", she called out, and from a door, practically invisible behind a stone pillar emerged a man. He was dressed in a mixture of green and black robes, his sleek black hair had two symmetrical white streaks. He appeared to be in his mid 50s, but clearly had the physique of a younger man. He strode out confidently, as Talia fell to one knee.

"Master", she said, as his humble servant. "He has been brought", she gestured at the body. Her father had not looked at her or the body, but focused his gaze on the patch of blood left by the wounded swordsman.

"You let him live" he retorted talking about the injured swordsman. "You always let them live". In one swift movement he raised his arm and struck her down with a backhand. as she crumpled to the floor The pain throbbed through her cheek as she slowly lifted herself to her feet.

"I'm sorry father", she now looked deep into her father's eyes searching for some non-existent hint of compassion. Her father smiled and embraced her,

"You did well tonight Talia" he told her, as her bruised face rested on his shoulder.

"If he is strong, we may have the final part of our plans". He lifted the body high into the air, carrying him through the door he had walked through. This room was not as large as the last, but was still spacious. Most notable was the large pool in the middle of the room, which bubbled away as the clear mixture in it swirled ferociously. Above the pool was an apparatus, with several shackles and belts hanging off a metal board. Together, they fastened the corpse to the board, making sure nothing was loose, tonight was not the night to make such errors.

"Are you sure he is everything we want Talia" her father asked.

"He is father. He seeks a purpose, and a lifetime to fulfill it", she replied.

"Good" her father and master said, pressing a bright red button on the wall. The chains that were connected to the slab raised, and the master placed the body on it, connecting it with belts and straps to assure the body would not move. Pressing the button again, the slab descended, and the liquid bubbled and seemed to change colour, becoming a deep maroon. Talia's father smiled, knowing what was happening.

Deep inside the pool, the body of Michael Evers opened its eyes.


End file.
